We were taught that all Christians were saints, with equal access to God in Christ, and that still has a sound theological ring for me.
But a collective amnesia about our past (something Baptists do "do", and with a frightening regularity) leads us to a empoverished spirituality. If our ideas of saintliness are limited to the example of those around us, circumstances may mean we are left without resources to challenge and sustain us. I believe that that is what may leave some folks to leave a congregation where they've been participants for a long time, suddenly deciding they don't like the pastor or it's not "mission minded" or "spiritual" enough for them, Their feeling of lack is not wrong -- it's the source of scarcity that is misunderstood.
We need to remember and listen to the saints of old -- you read the Desert Fathers and Mothers and they sound remarkably modern. Theresa of Avila, Julian of Norwich, St. John of the Cross, and John Bunyan led very different lives than ours, but there are, in their writings, longings and questions that resonate with us.
But I digress.
During seminary I heard or read a definition of a saint that changed my understanding of "We're all saints". I wish I could credit it, but I can't remember where I found it. It was "A Saint is a window through whom the love of God shines."
As a pastor, I knew many of those saints. I sat with them in nursing homes and committee meetings, around hospital beds and kitchen tables. We worked rummage sales and chicken dinners together. And every year on All Saint's Sunday I have looked out at whatever congregation I was serving and no matter how many people in the pews, the worship center is full, packed to the rafters with the saints whom I have known and who were part of that particular congregation. As I write this, my tears are flowing, because I am so grateful for these beloved people: Doris and Georgia, Bernice and Eleanore and Tom and numerous Kens, I see their faces and I MISS them, though some of been gone far longer than I ever knew them. None of them were perfect human beings, but I remember how the love of God shone through them and what I learned of that love from them.
For that reason I always want to sing Vaughn Williams majestic hymn Sine Nomine on All Saints Sunday, though I can never make it through without breaking down. It reminds me that the Kingdom of God is not dependent on me, but that it is my job to be a saint -- to get out of the way so that God's love can be manifested in my life, and shine through me. For the world is full of the saints of God.
- O blest communion, fellowship divine!
- We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
- Yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine.
- Alleluia, Alleluia!
- And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
- Steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
- And hearts are brave, again, and arms are strong.
- Alleluia, Alleluia!
- From earth’s wide bounds, from ocean’s farthest coast,
- Through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
- Singing to Father, Son and Holy Ghost
- Alleluia, Alleluia!
